Alarm
Self are you toward the pool
No then closer
Night’s not on the list
of the glass-green water
It loves your legs the water
It is mica and night honey
mushrooms and legs
I tell you about my childhood
You hum over
your future tattoos
Long hands Particular
islands Plums
It will be such
a sad century
you say
Do you really
want to survive it
Green-glass water
The shapes of leaves
clotting in a fuller
patience of water
Urn
Water
Flood
come through the door
